Always Yours (Roommate Duet 6)

After our conversation, we watch TV until our eyes are heavy, then we go to bed. I hold Maddie in my arms as we fall asleep, listening to her soft breathing, and allowing her to calm my racing mind until I drift off.

It’s been less than forty-eight hours since JJ reappeared in my life and shook it up like a snow globe. It’s day one of training, and when my alarm goes off at four-thirty in the morning, I force myself to roll out of bed. I place a soft kiss on Maddie’s forehead before getting dressed and grabbing a protein bar. Tyler arrived late yesterday afternoon and got settled into my room. It was almost like old times with him being here again, but I hate that it’s under these circumstances. I check outside and see his rental truck is already gone because he’s punctual as fuck, so I head to the gym to meet him. Once I’m parked and inside, I see Tyler in the kickboxing area eagerly awaiting me.

“We could’ve ridden together,” I say as soon as I’m near him.

“Good morning to you too,” he tells me. I notice he’s dripping with sweat and can’t imagine how long he’s been here. He would’ve had to got here at least an hour ago to get a workout in before I arrived. “Are you ready?”

“I guess.” I blow out an insecure breath.

Tyler forces me to run a mile and do several different stretches to warm my muscles. After I’m fully awake, he hands me a pair of gloves and puts some on, then moves toward me. He stands eye to eye with me, and I don’t even flinch when he pretends to go for the gut. It’s nothing more than a distraction. “They might not even give you gloves during the fight. If they’re doing street rules, you’ll get some tape on your knuckles, and that’s about it. I’d suggest you get a piece of wood and start punching the hell out of it at home so you can build up your knuckle strength.” He turns his back on me, and a second later, his fist slams straight into my gut. “Always watch your opponent.”

“Not fair, I wasn’t ready.” I clench my fist in my glove and blow out a breath.

Tyler smirks. “That’s the point. You need to be ready every second you’re in the ring.” He lifts his leg and tries to take me down, but I block him.

“What the hell?” I scowl.

“Street fighting isn’t just hits and punches, Liam. You’ll need to watch out for legs too,” Tyler explains.

“So basically it’s MMA rules on steroids?” I ask, taking a swing at him, feeling my bodyweight bounce on the practice mats.

“Pretty much. Mafia underground fighting has only one rule and one goal. No guns in the ring and kill you before you kill them.” His leg quickly comes up, hitting me behind my knee, and I immediately lose my balance. When his glove meets my face, my anger level rises, and I block his hits until I get to my feet. I go to Tyler, throwing calculated punches, but he redirects every swing I make. I finally connect; however, he’s two steps ahead of me and brings me down once again with another hit to the face. My heart rapidly beats, and my chest rises and falls as my adrenaline spikes.

“Do you wanna die?” he shouts, connecting his fist with my jaw, and that’s when I see red and lose control. “Time to get your shit together. Focus, Liam.” The anger takes over, and I’m fighting Tyler with all the strength I have, but he’s quick on his feet, and I barely make contact with him. It doesn’t surprise me, though. He’s a professional and has been doing this for years.

“Better,” he tells me, then sucker punches me right in the stomach. Taking a few steps back, Tyler calls a time-out, and we’re both heaving. “You need to hydrate.” We pull off our gloves, then walk over to his bag where he grabs a couple of bottles of water, then hands me one.

“You’re out of practice,” he scolds as I inhale my drink. “But I think we’ll be able to get you where you need to be, but it’s going to take a lot of work. You’ll be working out harder than you ever have in your life.”

I nod, trying to let my endorphins settle. I’m so goddamn worked up right now. “I can’t lose this fight. There’s too much weighing on it.” I finish the bottle and throw it in the trash.

“I agree. They play dirty. You’ll have to tune out everyone outside of the ring and focus on your opponent’s moves. I’m guessing there’ll be at least half a million dollars’ worth in bets, so if you lose and live, JJ will make sure you don’t walk away.” I grit my teeth as Tyler continues. “I made a few phone calls to some friends who are involved in that circle. I’m trying to find out more about the guy you’re fighting so we at least know what you’re up against.”